Finding Family in Food
Airports are dull and inhospitable. Transient worlds of neck-pillows, fast food, and tiny too-expensive bottles of liquor. Liminal spaces where everyone - save for TSA and the Cinnabon employee - is either coming or going. No one belongs here, really. Everyone moving through this space holds onto a pervasive longing to be somewhere else, either excited expectations of what’s to come or fond memories of where they’ve been. In our case, both are true.
Breezy (Malaika’s right-hand and top of the long list of reasons making this move has changed my life) and I are taking some time off, away from the farm and school. “Time off” isn’t strictly accurate (unless you’re a border official): we’ll be working with farmers and chefs throughout Europe to explore new cuisines and foodways and to learn different approaches for connecting communities with their land and food. Our adventure begins tomorrow in Spain.
Leaving home, both family and farmily, is difficult. As a farmer, you establish a connection to the land you’ve worked, the soil you’ve walked on and held, nurtured from month to month, season to season. And like the produce you’ve grown, you’ve also cultivated relationships with the people you’ve spent from first light to dusk with (often more), seven days a week.
Same too, in the kitchen. You grow close with the people who leave footprints next to yours in the morning baking’s fallen flour. The same people who 13 or 14 hours later - both a blink and a lifetime - sweep up those footprints and mop the floors with you. These spaces are hard to leave (which is why, mopping done, you still linger over a glass of wine before turning off the lights and heading home). Harder still, to leave for longer than a night’s sleep.
Breezy, Prepping a Garden Bed near Pizarra, Spain
Even so, we’ve left. “Only for a little while,” we repeat to Ian and Shelley, to Malaika, to long-time students and friends. Though we all know a year (or two) is a long “little while.” But, as difficult as it is, this all feels to me like another step on the path I set out on, over a year ago now, when I moved to the school. The leap is exhilarating, even more-so as I become more assured that this is the path I’m meant to be on. And all the easier to enjoy with Breezy sleeping in the seat next to me.
The beauty of the kitchen family, forged together in the heat of the line, and of the farmily, that grows with every new season, is that the bonds are strong and roots deep. And for people who love food - growing, preparing, and sharing it - with such a passion as to give all of themselves to its pursuit, new friendships are quick to grow.
Here’s to the farmily we’re leaving (for now), hearts filled with gratitude for homes and tables shared. And here’s to la familia to come, with whom we’ll be growing new relationships and plenty of good food in the coming year.
Spade & Spatula will be updated regularly in the coming months with stories of the people, places, and, of course, food Breezy and I encounter on our adventure. Recipes too! Feel free to comment on these posts or write to karl.james.wagner@gmail.com. Looking forward to sharing this next year with you!
